


i'm hers and she's mine

by spacecleavage



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Eating out, F/M, I'm tired, PWP, Sex Pollen, Smut, actually based on dragon fruit, strange fruit, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4304205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacecleavage/pseuds/spacecleavage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>basically, don't eat the strange fruit</p><p>also known as Lina's attempt at the sex pollen trope</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm hers and she's mine

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically a sex pollen fic
> 
> oh and un betaed because Jazz is mean and actually falls asleep at human hours

Sometimes Clarke hated being polite, sometimes she just wanted to say no, I want to go back to my tent and sleep for a couple of days. But sometimes, life didn’t work like that, sometimes you just have to man up and do the right thing. Still, when you get stuck get stuck in this situation, you just want to be back in your own bed, curled beneath a tattered blanket trying not to think of Bellamy Blake… wait, what? No, just relaxing, just relax and do nothing for once.

So here she was, seated on a lavish chair with Bellamy kneeling beside her, a clay plate piled high with strange fruits that Clarke had never seen before. It was so strange to be seated with this group of Grounder women surrounding her, men all kneeling before or beside them.

One of the Kru’s who shared a border with the Trikru had invited Clarke (and by extension Bellamy) to the Harvest festival. She had been reluctant to attend the festival, not entirely sure why it was necessary for her to attend when any number of their people could have gone. But their emissary had insisted it be her, and when Lincoln had whispered something in Bellamy’s ear and he had volunteered (volunteered isn’t a strong enough word, not for the way Bellamy cornered her after the meeting, standing just close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body and it felt like his dark eyes were piercing straight into her soul, the way he practically told her with a stern look that he was going, whether she liked it or not).

Clarke watched in fascinated horror as the men around them, began to feed the strange fruit to their female companions. The decadent way the men put the fruit against the woman’s lips and how it appeared to be almost sexual in the way the women ate it.

She turned to Bellamy her eyes wide; surely he didn’t that she would actually do this? But then he glanced at the clan’s leader and saw that she was watching the two of them, disdain starting to pull at her features.

Bellamy carefully picked a small piece of the fruit, which as he lifted to her lips, she took the opportunity to study it. It had a pink peel and a softer white center which was dotted with lots of tiny seeds. She wondered how it would taste on her tongue, the other women around her seemed to be enjoying it, but she wasn’t sure if that was to do with the actual fruit, or the fact that almost all of them were being fed by attractive examples of people (turns out there were some women in the group feeding).

It was sweet, like that first taste of a raspberry that turns to tang afterwards, that sharp, sweet flavour filled her mouth and she tried not to show how much she enjoyed the taste of it on her lips. Her tongue almost left her mouth to sweep up any lingering bits on her lips but she stopped herself because she could feel Bellamy watching her, her eyes had fallen as she had revelled in the taste of the fruit.

Again she tasted it, and again she had to try and hide her enjoyment of the fruit, this time there was actually a catch in her throat and as the tangy flavour filled her mouth her eyes fell closed, all her concentration on the taste of the fruit and the way it made her feel. The fruit seemed to overtake all her senses, all she could smell was its sweet pulp, the sounds that surrounded her were almost obscene, the moans from all the people as they too were enveloped by the fruit. Every part of her body seemed to numb, like she was in those final moments before sleep and everything in the world was slipping away, yet she was hyper aware of everything around her. The way the material of her pants felt beneath her fingers (coarse), the heat from the fire on her shins (warm), and Bellamy’s breathe caressing her collarbone.

She was forced her eyes open, finding Bellamy had moved closer to her and was watching her heaving chest. She knew what it looked like, her top had popped a button on the journey to the festival and she hadn’t had the time to fix it, so she was more revealed than normal. What a tempting picture she must have made, her chest rising and falling with each of shallow breath.

She felt a tingle of lust, which was something she normally associated with Bellamy, but only when she was alone with her thoughts, late at night. It was strange, but Clarke quickly forgot about it because Bellamy was offering her another piece of the fruit. She opened her mouth to take the fruit delicately between her teeth, before her tongue curled around it and brought it into her mouth. As she bit down on the crisp peel, her eyes never left Bellamy who was watching her lips in fascination.

A dark part of her whispered that she should tease him, run her tongue across her lips, let her tongue, or even her teeth, catch his fingers. The sensible part of her (which was getting quieter and quieter) wondered where the thought had come from, if maybe something was wrong with her. But then Bellamy was feeding her another piece and she forgot all about those thoughts as the flavours raced through her mouth.

What would his skin taste like? Maybe it would hold the tart juice of the fruit, maybe it would taste like salty and musky like the smells that encircled him constantly. She didn’t have to wait long to find out because with the next piece she accidentally grazed the pad of his thumb with her teeth.

Bellamy’s eyes dilated and she could feel the huff of his breath against her sensitive skin, she couldn’t help smirk a little bit at the reaction she caused in him. Hidden behind that smirk was an overwhelming amount of lust and arousal, her fingers itched to ease the ache between her thighs and with every breath, her nipples dragged against the loose material of her shirt, and that friction felt more and more pleasurable.

She was just about to demand another piece of fruit when a Grounder interrupted them. He was a short, squat man, with very little hair on his head, he gestured for the two of them to follow him, speaking quickly in the language of the local Kru. Given that the other couples in the festival were doing the same, Clarke followed the man.

With each step she took, she could the slick between her thighs and she knew she was in trouble when the man stopped outside a small hut. He motioned them inside, speaking some Trigedasleng as he did so. Clarke was able to pick up on some of his words, the one that stuck in her mind was ‘goufa’.

She watched Bellamy step into the hut and assumed that it was safe to follow, but she was very wrong. The hut was very simple, with only a chair, small table and a bed. The bed itself was lavishly made, Clarke could see effort that somebody had put into making sure that it would be very comfortable and appealing to their guests. However, all of that only served to make Clarke worry… well, for a few moments she worried, then she put her hand on Bellamy’s shoulder and she got distracted by the way his muscles tensed under her touch and how large and strong he felt.

He must have felt the spike in arousal too, because he turned back to her, giving her a pointed elevator look. Every part of her felt under scrutiny, and the delicious smirk that covered his face after made those insecurities float away. That smirk also made her want to rip off all her clothes and do dirty, nasty things to one another.

She didn’t, she just launched herself at him. Thankfully, as always he seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, because his arms wrapped around her smaller frame with ease and their lips met in a passionate kiss.

Clarke had often wondered what Bellamy’s lips would taste like, how they would move against hers, if he would bite at her lip or suck her tongue into his mouth, every little thing that she could have wondered about the kiss, she did. What she got was better, his lips seemed to move in tandem with hers. He back away a centimeter to change the angles of their heads and God, it was so much better, his lips were warm and hit tongue was hot against her lips. A rush arousal flowed through her and settled between her thighs, the ache their growing ever more insistent.

She wasn’t aware of them moving, or of her clothes leaving her body, not even of her back hitting the bed and moving so Bellamy’s weight was pleasantly squishing her. None of that even registered because, damn could Bellamy Blake kiss. Her mind then started to wonder again, wondering just exactly what it would feel like to have Bellamy’s head between her thighs, those talented lips between her thighs.

She felt the hand in her hair twist closer to her skull, pulling her head back more as Bellamy’s lips finally left hers. He let out a throaty chuckle at the whine she made. She wanted his lips on hers, and only on hers.

His fingers grazed along her side, teasingly light in their touch and she ached to move into them, but with Bellamy’s rigid body trapping her tightly against the mattress, the most she could manage was to wiggle her hips against his. Which may have helped her, because the way his lips stuttered against her neck and the growing hardness she could feel trapped between their bodies, revealed that he was just as affected as her.

His hand drifted to her thigh, gently stroking up and down her skin, and it felt like sparks of electricity chasing up and down her legs. She wanted that hand closer, those fingers to be exploring her folds, yet she found Bellamy moving down her body. He stopped over her breasts, hovering above both of them, before his tongue flicked out over the tip of her nipple.

There was a second when the flesh cooled under his breath and caused her insides to clench, then his lips were sealed around her and her nipples was in his hot mouth. She found herself arching under his talented tongue, trying to bring him closer to her breasts, but then he was pulling away, his breath cold against the wet flesh. Her entire body shivered as he purposefully blew across it. He looked up into her eyes, and she moved her hands into his hair.

She thought for a second that he might pay attention to her other breast, trying to tease her until she exploded from the pleasure, but then he was moving down again. His lips stopping at the jut of her ribs and the dip of her navel. His tongue felt so hot and wet and she just wanted him inside of her.

She could feel her heart rate pick up a gear as he nuzzled her curls, his nose pushing against her clit and sending off sparks behind her eyes.

“Bellamy, please, I need you,” she groaned. His tongue swiped from her entrance to her clit, her hands in his hair clenched as touched her clit and the moan that he gave caused a kind of vibration to pass between the two of them. Clarke felt a gush of arousal at the feeling and tried hard not to scream when he did it again.

“Clarke,” he moaned. His hands were hooking his thighs around his shoulders and her thighs immediately clamped around his head, refusing to let him move away from her more than an inch. His hand clenched at her waist as she bucked her hips closer to him, with his tongue teasing her entrance, exploring the first few folds of it but not going any deeper.

“Please,” she whined, trying to bring his tongue into her, or maybe to her clit, anything that could help with the pressure building up inside of her.

Bellamy pulled away for a moment and Clarke felt a stab of rejection, as his eyes widened in horror.

“Clarke, what are we doing?” he mumbled, trying to pull back a little from her, but her legs were still locked around his neck.

“I don’t know, following the local customs,” she tried to joke and pull him back to her aching core. It was actually aching now, not the pleasant throb of arousal, but something deeper and more painful.

“Clarke, we are about,” he stopped and swallowed, clearly uncomfortable with his next words, “about to have sex, and not an hour ago, you were trying to get out of this festival,”

Clarke tried to think back to it, but she couldn’t. The throb had turned into actual stabs of pain.

“Please, I can’t—I just need—Bellamy, please, I need… I need you,” the words were jumbled and she knew something was wrong but she needed something, her hands fled his hair, to protectively curl around her stomach.

“What’s wrong? Clarke, what’s wrong?” Bellamy tried to move again, to comfort her but her whole body was clenching and tightening in its own strange attempt to stop the pain.

“Hurt,” she replied and everything did, everything seemed to be burning and she just wanted the flames to be put out, to stop hurting her! “Please,” she begged and as he moved again he bumped her clit and the pain ceased for moment. “Please,” she tried again.

Then Bellamy had the idea, he knew the pain stopped when he moved against her. And he started over again, licking and teasing around her entrance. Making her writhe under his tongue as he fucked it in and out of her hole. His hand came around to rub her clit and she could feel it, feel the start of her orgasm. She pushed herself harder against him, her body shaking and mewling as his sped up its pace. She was so close, it was right there and then his fingers pinched her clit, twisting it hard and she was off.

This orgasm was different to any she’d had before. It was like a wild fire, consuming all in its path, burning her from the inside out as the pleasure spread across her body and numbed her mind. Each breath ached as the fire burnt her lungs and caused a ringing in her ears. She could feel Bellamy still laving her body as she continued on her high.

She looked up at Bellamy after her orgasm had receded back. His dark eyes watched her from his place between her legs, then his tongue licked his lips as if every drop of her was precious and not one was going to waste. She watched in fascination as he slowly moved back down to her and licked away more of her cream.

Fuck, that was so hot, then that lust and arousal was stabbing at her all over again and she had three distinct thoughts.

One, she was glad her implant was up to date, because she did not want to get pregnant.

Two, she was never going to eat strange fruit again.

Third, she was going to ride Bellamy so hard, that neither of them would be able to move for a week.

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from 'cherry wine' by hozier


End file.
